


Just Desserts

by MLMDarkFiction



Category: The loverman Killer
Genre: Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Cannibalism Play, Dismemberment, Gore, Guro, M/M, Slight Smut, slight nsfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 12:17:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20470898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MLMDarkFiction/pseuds/MLMDarkFiction
Summary: Valentine gets a little too overzealous after a successful kill and the excess energy is taken out on Myers, who is more than happy to take everything the other has to offer.





	Just Desserts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [masochistfox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/masochistfox/gifts).

It’s exciting watching Val work. It’s everything Myers could have ever wanted and more. He hesitates in his spot, flitting nervously back and forth, from foot to foot. His gaze is full of nothing but absolute admiration as he watches Valentine slit the struggling man up through the stomach like a pig.

He wants to help, but he can’t bring himself to act. His hands stay hidden behind his sleeves, curled close to his chest.

Either Myers decides to help Val now, as the man is quickly losing life, or resigns himself to watch and enjoy the show.

Both situations are pleasurable for Myers.

But he waits far too long to decide. The man dies before Myers has decide if he wants to involve himself in the killing. 

Val is over charged, excited. This kill did little to end the manic energy bubbling up inside of him. He wastes no time in beginning to stage things to his preference.

He twists the intestines into the form of a heart, it matches the hearts Valentine had already carved into the man’s flesh long before his actual death.

Standing back, admiring his work of art, it’s perfect. What would, to a regular passerby be a horrible gore fest, is to Valentine and by extension Myers, is an expression of love in the most carnal of ways.

“Myers.”

The other jolts at the sudden mention of his name, heart jumping into his throat.

“Ye-Yes?”

He’s eager. Myers is always eager to please Valentine. It brings a smirk to Valentine’s face. 

“Come on love.”  
  
Myers gulps and nods, feeling as Valentine wraps his arms around him from behind, beginning to lead him back to Val’s own abode. 

The whole trip is spent with Val pressed against Myers’ small form, his nails trailing all across Myers’ torso and slowly beginning to drift down, closer towards his thighs and-

  
“Val?”

The name leaves Myers’ lips as nothing more than a weak whimper. It’s not so much that he wants Valentine to stop, that it is Myers is struggling to keep himself upright and walking due to the newfound tightness in his pants.

That issue is not helped by the low hum of “Hm?” from Valentine coming inches away from Myers ear, and affectively causing him to shiver.

“Neve-evermind.”

An answer which is apparently satisfactory to Val, who returns it by continuing to grind himself against Myers from behind.

Myers swallows hard.

There destination is in sight, and he’s quite literally pushed into the doorway by his overly eager partner. Whatever Val has instore is a mystery to Myers, but one he eagerly awaits to solve. Shaking hands fumble with the keys until he has to forcibly pull his sleeves down, and even then, he continues to struggle with the locks, a mix of excitement and still surging adrenaline making it hard for him to stay still.

And the consistent grinding and purring in his ears from Valentine does little to help with sad predicament.

Once the door is open Valentine seems to get much more serious. It’s not that Val was afraid of doing anything in public, he had no qualms with it, simply he knew what it was he wanted to do with Myers, and it required being home. And now that they are home his grip suddenly becomes iron around the other, and the lips which had previously been lingering near Myers ear now go to his neck, teeth digging into the flesh they find there.

A soft moan leaves Myers, both of pain and pleasure, the two always connecting when involving Val, just the way Myers likes it.

  
Valentine doesn’t pull away until he tastes blood. The iron stains his lips as he pulls away, admiring the bite mark and just how deep his teeth had punctured this time along. This bite alone wouldn’t scar, but there’s always ways to fix that, and always more scars to leave.

He makes a show of licking the blood from his lips and teeth, enjoying the way Myers watches him from over his shoulder flushed and so obviously aroused.

“Basement.” It’s all he says as he shoves Myers away from him hard.

In a happy accident Myers doesn’t end up tumbling face first down the stairs, just slightly tumbling over his own feet before grabbing onto the handrail and steadying himself. Still he doesn’t hesitate to immediately keep going down into the darkness bellow. He doesn’t want to disappoint Val.

Once there Myers waits eagerly for Val’s next course of instructions. He’s stuck waiting and watching as Val moves a folding chair to rest beneath one of the concrete supports beams and starts to gather about a foot of industrial rope.

Myers quickly wipes away at the drool dripping down his chin, licking his lips in excitement as Valentine approaches him, the rope in hand.

He opens his mouth to speak, but the words are literally taken by the harsh act of Valentine kissing him. Their teeth clack together due to the intensity, although neither seem concerned about it at all. Myers both feels and allows himself to be moved focusing his energy on returning the kiss, and his hands resting on Valentine’s hips.

Valentine is the one who decides the kiss is over, the decision made by shoving Myers back against the chair, smirking as their lips disconnect with Myers falling back into the seat. 

“Val…”  
  
The man in question sits himself upon Myers’ lap, the rope in hand now being used to tie Myers onto the chair. Myers erection is pressing against Valentine fervently, and his own erection is obvious from the very clear tent in his leather skirt.

Myers moans again, unable to help himself, especially with Valentine on top of him, also obviously aroused and enjoying himself. It doesn’t matter that he’s being tied to the beam, or that he doesn’t know what exactly it is that Valentine has planned.

He would do anything for the other man. Maybe this time Valentine would actually kill him.

That very thought alone is enough to make Myers’ cock twitch in anticipation.

Myers allows himself to be manhandled by Val, not that he could have avoided it with his being tied up, his pants are removed, cock freed. He moans softly, a bit of drool beginning to drop down his chin in eager anticipation. 

The flesh of Myers’ thighs are littered with scars. Scratches, stabs, bites, but of Myers’ scars Valentines favorites are the hearts intricately carved into the skin. It’s those scars that he traces now with his nails, appreciating the way Myers muscles flex under the teasing touches.

“Val?”

Valentine ignores Myers. He knows exactly where the begging is going to go. An annoyed hand twitches at his side. No matter how many times he tells Myers he prefers to keep him as a sort of pet, Myers still begs time and time again for him to kill him.

“Pl-Please Val, could-could you-“

He doesn’t let Myers finish. The knife from before, the same knife he’d used to gut the man from before, it’s somewhat dulled, but that doesn’t stop Valentine from stabbing it to the hilt into Myers thigh.

Although it’s not exactly what Myers was wanting, a moan of pleasure leaves his lips. All it does is spur Valentine on. The knife is ripped out only to make purchase in the meat of his leg again, and again, and again.

Valentine doesn’t realize just how deeply he’s cutting away at Myers, only that the flesh is covered in blood, and he can’t see the cuts anymore. But when all that happens all he does is change legs, stabbing into the other just as aggressively.

And the whole time Myers is moaning, his hips raised as far as they can be with his bindings, pressing up as if trying to get even closer to Valentine, as if wanting to force the even deeper into the flesh of his thighs.

“More- Valentine, mo-more!”

“Be good.”

Valentine says, his voice more of a condescending coo than anything actually comforting. One bloody hand reaches up to push back Myers’ hair, the blood staining his face, and dampening his locks.

The intimacy of the actions is what finally pushes Myers over the edge. He’d been wound up this whole time, cock swollen, precum dripping from the tip. All it takes is a moment of extra stimulation for him to actually blow his load.   
  
Cum lands on his belly, his thighs, and Valentines clothing. Nailed fingers capture the stray fluids, mixing with the blood, and make their way into Myers’ mouth as he’s mid moan.

He doesn’t disappoint though. Always eager to please his tongue swirls around the digits cleaning them of his cum and blood, the taste lingering in his mouth even after Valentine pulls them away.

Stepping back Valentine looks over the work he’s done to his pet. He blinks several times in the realization that he’s almost completely severe Myers’ legs. What is connected is merely held in place by the tiniest strands of muscle which had only just barely managed to avoid the slicing of the knife.

Naturally the chair is soaked in blood, and more so the ground around it too. It’s so much so Valentine doubts cleaning it would do much, the drying liquid seeping into the concrete already, likely staining it forever.

Myers himself looks happy but worse for wear, pale faced, tired, and sweaty.

“Thank you…Than-Thank you Val.” 

Valentine silently decides what to do next, knowing that no matter what he chooses, that Myers would let him. There’s no point in trying to save his legs. They’re useless now. Even if he cared enough to try and save them it would be a useless effort.

So, he severs what’s left, on both sides.

As to be expected Myers is lightheaded a mix of Euphoria, the pain, and the blood loss. He closes his eyes for what he thinks is only a moment, and when he opens them again Valentine is gone. This process repeats.  
Myers shuts his eyes, Valentine is back. Myers opens his eyes; his newfound stumps are bandaged the bleeding momentarily stopped. His eyes fall shut, Myers slipping into an unconsciousness.

Valentine checks Myers’ pulse, and upon realizing that (thankfully) his pet is still alive, he continues his cleaning up of the scene, staring at the useless left-over meat he’d taken from Myers.

There’s no point in just getting rid of it. Not when they can use it.

While Myers gets his must needed rest, all while still tied to the pillar in the basement, Valentine gets to work on cooking the meat. He treats it like any other meat, seasons it accordingly, makes sure it cooks thoroughly and isn’t raw. And when the Myers steak is finished, Valentine plates it with flare, a single mint leaf to top it off perfectly. 

It’s a gently petting of his hair, and stroking of his hair, along with the delicious aroma of something freshly cooked that pulls Myers awake. The first thing he sees is Val, the next thing is the plate.

He doesn’t know yet what it is. There’s no indication of what it is, nor does Val seem to have any intention of telling him.

Val’s gentle administrations stop at the realization that Myers has regained consciousness. One hand remaining to cup his cheek.   
  
“How are you feeling darling~?”

The pet name slips from his tongue naturally, and although it’s not the first time, nor the last time he’ll be called such, it still causes Myers to beam, even despite his state of heavy blood loss.

“I feel fi-fine.”

Because after all, he doesn’t want to disappoint Val, and whatever it is he has planned. Myers’ nervous green eyes continuously flit back and forth between Valentine’s face and the plate with curiosity. 

“Are you wondering what I have?”

Myers simply nods.   
  
With Myers’ still tied to the chair and pillar he has no way to use his hands, but that doesn’t matter. Valentine is more than happy to feed Myers himself.

He cuts the leg steak into a small bite sized bit, stabbing it with the fork, and then offering it to Myers.

Valentine doesn’t even have to ask for Myers to open up, his mouth is eagerly awaiting before the fork is even lifted to his lips. The process repeats itself, only with bigger forkfuls of food as Myers shows no hesitance at all.

In no time the meat Valentine had prepared is gone, all of it back within the body of the person to whom it belonged to begin with.

There was more. The leftovers, what was left of Myers severed legs, was stored away in the freezer for later. It would not be the last time Myers would taste himself, and perhaps next time Valentine would taste him as well.


End file.
